In Sickness and in Health
by TheImaginativeFox
Summary: Dick is sick, and for once, he doesn't need any convincing to take a few days off to recover. Wally isn't sure if this is a step forward for Dick on his journey to basic self-care of if it's a warning sign. Either way, he's here to help. Tumblr prompt fill, sickfic.


From magnuslightwoodbane's Angst-to-Fluff Dialogue Prompts on tumblr: Anon asked for #58: "Very mature. Asshole." for birdflash.

I had a cold and an ear infection when I started writing this, so enjoy some sick birdflash.

* * *

Dick is calling it: he's officially sick. And not "just a common cold" sick, but "stay home and move as little as possible" sick. He can't remember the last time he could really think clearly and his throat feels like sandpaper from all the coughing. He's achy, has the chills, and feels nauseous. He needs meds—obviously—but he hasn't been in Bludhaven very long and he hadn't thought to buy decongestions for his new place. He also doesn't think he can physically leave his blanket cocoon.

Luckily, his boyfriend is a speedster; he'll be able to get meds faster than anyone and has no problem helping Dick out in his time of need. So he texts him with his needs for drugs and company and Wally is there before Dick can even completely (unintentionally) doze off.

"Hey, Babe," Wally greets, kissing his forehead almost as soon as he walks in the door. "Woah, you're really warm."

"Hmm," Dick hums, leaning into the palm on his forehead that has replaced Wally's lips.

"How long have you been sick?" Wally asks, pulling away from Dick to shuffle through the plastic bag.

"No clue," Dick replies. And really, he can't remember.

The shuffling stops and Dick can feel Wally staring at him.

"What?"

Wally's stare intensifies. " _You_ can't remember?"

"I'm tired," Dick wines, toppling over onto his side. He opens one eye to find Wally still looking at him, so he thinks for a second and explains, "I thought I had a cold—um, maybe a week or two ago—but it was no big deal. Guess it came back with a vengeance."

The shuffling starts again and this time Wally pulls out some small boxes.

"Did you bring presents?" Dick asks cheekily, sitting back up again to lean against Wally.

"Well, if Mucinex and cough drops count, then yes," Wally says, smiling.

"Those are the best kinds of presents," Dick jokes, taking the goods from Wally and gets to work on popping the Mucinex from its packaging.

"I'll get you some water." Wally pats Dick's arm, then heads for the kitchen.

Dick opens the box without a problem, but he can't seem to get the tablets out of the foil. He can't rip the supposedly pre-scored rectangle to peel of the top foil. His arms feel weak and his hands are shaky. And now he's frustrated and doesn't want to deal with it.

"Wally," Dick calls, suddenly very aware of how different his voice sounds due to his illness. "Come back."

"One sec," Wally calls. And, literally, one second later, Wally's back, glass of water in hand. "Here."

Dick takes the glass, trading it for the tray of Mucinex. "I can't open it," he explains.

Wally gives him this sad look, but he doesn't hesitate to take it. "I don't know why they make this packaging so difficult to open." Wally hands the now freed pill to Dick, who immediately swallows it. "I mean, they designed it knowing tired, sick people would be using it."

Dicks shrugs as he sips his water. He sets the still mostly-full glass on the side table as Wally takes a spot on the couch next to him.

"Wanna watch something?" Wally suggests as Dick unwraps a lemon-flavored cough drop and pops it into his mouth.

"Sure," Dick says, then sucks on the cough drop and curls up next to Wally.

Wally pulls up Dick's Netflix account and plays the last thing Dick was in the middle of watching. It turns out he had been watching another nature doc, but Dick has no memory of watching the first half. He wonders how feverish he actually is.

At some point, Dick's head winds up in Wally's lap. Wally's hand is playing with Dick's hair, and Dick has Wally's other hand draped across his stomach. It's comfortable, and Dick kind of likes this domestic moment, even if he had to be sick to get it. It's hard being in a long-distance relationship sometimes, even if your boyfriend has super speed and you see each other regularly. But there's nothing to be done about it. Dick won't leave Bludhaven and Wally won't leave college. Neither asks the other to do so, of course; it's just an unspoken rule.

They finish the documentary, Wally pausing it when Dick's coughing fits get too intense to hear the narration. Wally puts something else on once it finishes, but Dick keeps falling in and out of sleep too often to really follow the plotline. When he wakes up next, the TV's off and he's still on Wally's lap, although he's clinging a little tighter and there's an extra blanket on top of him. He feels miserable and not quite himself, but he's also glad that he's not alone right now.

"You're probably contagious," Wally muses, seemingly out of nowhere.

"What? Afraid you'll get sick?" Dick asks, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "The great Kid Flash can't handle a cold?"

"My metabolism is too fast for me to actually get sick. I'd have symptoms for like an hour—tops," Wally reminds him (reassures him that he isn't putting Wally at risk of illness and as a result doesn't need to feel guilty about asking Wally to come over). "But I'm glad the idea of you making me sick amuses you."

"You're so whiny." Dick waves him off. "Why even bring it up?"

"I was just thinking you probably shouldn't be around normal people until you're over this," Wally tells him. "If this bug has _you_ feeling this terrible, it's probably worse than your run-of-the-mill cold; not really the thing you want to push through and risk getting other people sick."

Dick nods passively. "Yeah. I mean, I wasn't really planning on it anyway."

There's a pause. And Dick knows that he doesn't really have a reputation for consistently taking care of himself when he needs to, but Wally doesn't have to be _that_ shocked that Dick's planning on taking a few sick days.

"Want me to stay here with you tonight?" Wally asks, and Dick nods, grateful he doesn't have to ask. "Okay. It's getting kind of late, should we order dinner or something?"

"You can order something," Dick tells him, "but I'm not hungry."

"Have you eaten at all today?" Wally asks.

Dick shrugs. "Yeah, a little." The " _I think"_ goes unsaid, but somehow Wally still picks up on it.

Wally sighs. "You should eat something. It'll make you feel better, or at least keep your energy up."

"Nauseous."

"Then eat crackers or toast or whatever."

Dick just pulls his blanket tighter around himself, his stomach protesting the mere idea. But Wally does have a point . . .

"Fine, I'll have toast. But you should still order food for yourself," Dick says.

"Later," Wally tells him. "Plain toast or do you want something on it?"

"Plain."

Wally goes to Dick's small apartment kitchen, returning with Dick's toast and a sandwich for himself a few minutes later.

Dick takes the plate Wally holds out to him. "Thanks."

"No problem," Wally hums back. Wally sits down next to him again and starts on his whole, uncut sandwich while Dick picks up one of the pieces of toast. There are two pieces of toast in total, each cut in a diagonal. He nibbles at it and manages to swallow a few bites, but mostly he just stares at it.

Wally notices.

"You have to actually eat it for it to have any effect," Wally tells him, sandwich already finished.

Dick is going to reply with something sarcastic about placebo effect and mindsets, but then he feels his stomach lurch. His hand goes to cover his mouth as he moves off of the couch and practically runs towards the bathroom.

He lifts the toilet lid and vomits into it, stomach convulsing so fast that he can't get a breath in. Wally's right behind him, rubbing his back up and down until Dick finishes.

Dick pants as he catches his breath. "Told you I was nauseous."

"Thanks for trying," Wally mumbles. "Mouthwash?"

"Please."

Wally leaves to let Dick clean up in private, which was originally just going to be washing his face but turned into an entire shower. Part of it is to wash off some of the sick feeling covering his body—maybe help ease the aches in his body, too—but mostly for the steam. He won't mention it to Wally (because it's not that bad and he would just worry), but his chest hurts and even with the meds, he feels like his breathing is on the verge of a wheeze. He's in there longer than he intended, but it felt good, and the steam did actually help.

Now he smells like soap and he's in new sweats and a loose, long-sleeved shirt. Wally's waiting for him on the couch, and the plate of toast is long gone. He curls up against Wally, half on top of him by the time he finds a comfortable spot. Wally says something about it, but Dick finds himself passing out before he can really figure out what had been said.

oOo

Wally wakes up not knowing he had fallen asleep. He's surprised when he realizes what happened, groaning when he realizes he and Dick are still on the couch. Dick should really be in a bed. He probably needs another dose of meds, too.

There's some noise that Wally can't quite place, though, and it's taken top priority on his mental list. He finally figures out that it's coming from Dick, and that's when he realizes what it is. _Shit_.

"You're wheezing," Wally says out loud, lifting both of them into a more upright position.

"Whu—" Dick's confused voice breaks into a cough. He pushes himself up more and scoots off of Wally to try to break the cough, but it doesn't seem to be helping. Wally rubs his back until it stops, and when it does, Dick is out of breath and wheezier than before.

"Gross," Dick says, starting at the crook of his elbow where his sleeve had caught the mucus he coughed up.

"You good now?" Wally asks. Dick nods, and the wheezing is going down, so that's good.

Dick rubs his chest. "I think I'm wheezing."

"Yeah," Wally agrees. "Do you have a humidifier or something?"

Dick shakes his head.

"I could go buy one?"

"No; don't go," Dick begs, slumping down against Wally again.

"It would only take a few minutes," Wally tries to convince, but he doesn't push that hard because he honestly doesn't want to leave Dick alone either. He holds him a little tighter. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Tired."

"Alright, c'mon," Wally says, lifting Dick up with him. "Drugs, and then into an actual bed."

oOo

Dick gets worse, so bad that they're both up at four in the morning. Dick has coughed so hard that he burst a blood vessel in his throat, and he coughs up blood-streaked, yellow mucus for a good three minutes. Wally pulls Dick into the bathroom, turning the shower as hot as it will go so he can breathe in the steam, hoping it will help the coughing. He can't tell if it does, but at least it's something.

They try to get some more sleep after that, but it doesn't really take so they just sit in bed together. They doze on and off for a few hours, but they never really sleep. Dick's too uncomfortable and Wally's too anxious.

After Dick finishes his latest coughing fit, Wally asks, "Do you want me to take you to Urgent Care when it opens?"

Dick nods, one hand pressing over the bridge of his nose. "I don't think this is a cold."

Wally pulls out his phone to check the hours. "They open at eight. Just one more hour, Babe, and then we can get you some medicine."

Dick nods again, coughs some more, and then slumps against Wally.

Just one more hour. They can make it one more hour.

oOo

They're the first ones at the urgent care, and Wally is almost embarrassed that he didn't take Dick to the ER hours ago. He's short of breath now, and Wally doesn't think he's going to catch that breath at this point. But Dick had said it wasn't an emergency and that, while his chest hurt and breathing wasn't easy, he was still breathing fine. Wally agreed, but still felt that twinge of guilt as he pulled his wheezing boyfriend into the Urgent Care the second the doors were unlocked.

They're taken back almost immediately, and the entire appointment only takes about twenty minutes. By the end of it, the blood-streaked mucus was confirmed as just a broken blood vessel in Dick's throat (no big deal), the yellow color of the mucus was a sign of a bacterial infection, and Dick's symptoms and wheezing turned out to be from acute bacterial bronchitis.

Which means Dick gets antibiotics and an inhaler.

So Wally drags Dick with him to the closest pharmacy—which turns out to be inside of a grocery store—and they wait for the prescription to be filled. The pharmacist tells them it will be another ten minutes, so they decide to go look for junk food to pass the time. Particular, frozen junk food.

Dick is pushing (read: leaning heavily on) the cart while Wally suggests a variety of treats. He doesn't seem to have much of an appetite and just shrugs or shakes his head at Wally's offerings. Luckily, Wally does have an appetite and manages to fill their cart with enough food to last both of them a good week.

Wally can't wait to get Dick back home and in bed. Seeing how exhausted this trip is making him is making Wally feel a little guilty for not dropping him at home first or using the drive-thru pharmacracy, but he didn't want to make Dick wait any longer for the medicine than he had to. And they did need to restock their supplies because there is no way Wally is going to let Dick starve to death or go another night (hour, really) without a humidifier.

Wally keeps looking over and asking how Dick's holding up, saying that they're almost done. Between the wheezing and the raw throat from coughing, Dick hasn't been very verbal this morning, but he does offer reassuring smiles to Wally. (Although, he also rests his forehead down on the cart's handle when he doesn't think Wally is looking—and that really helps Wally's conscience.)

They finish up with the groceries and head back to the pharmacy area. Dick goes up alone and returns with his antibiotic and inhaler. As they make their way back towards the checkout, Wally picks up the bag to inspect the inhaler.

"You know, I think this inhaler is the last item you need to get your official nerd card," Wally teases, walking right into the cart that a certain Dick decided to stop upon hearing the comment. "Very mature," Wally says, rolling his eyes. Dick smirks, so Wally flicks his ear before smiling back and adding, "Asshole."

"I think sick nerds get to be assholes," Dick decides.

"Fair," Wally agrees, leaning over to kiss Dick. It's good to see Dick smile at his lame banter, especially after the morning they've had.

Dick kisses him back and starts pushing the cart towards the self-checkout again. "And for the record, just in case you get sick, sick _geeks_ don't get to be assholes."

"I won't get sick," Wally says automatically. Then, after fully registering what Dick had said, "Hey, wait a minute!"

* * *

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! And if you could leave me a review telling me what you thought, I would really appreciate it :)


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